


Sweet Nothings

by FromAnonymousToZ



Category: Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon & Comics)
Genre: And loosing his mind laughing, At the Beast's indignant confusion, Double Entendre, Euphemisms, Innuendo, M/M, Maybe a touch more, Mentions of Sex, Requested on my tumblr, The whole fic is Enoch listing off euphemisms, This is about as adult as Innuendos is, allusions to sex, rated mature for mentions of sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:42:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27916210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FromAnonymousToZ/pseuds/FromAnonymousToZ
Summary: Enoch likes to run his mouth.The Beast knows this about the Harvest Lord. He enjoys it, listening to Enoch ramble about everything, from weather to politics to town gossip. It's a pleasant drone, humming about without pause. The Beast is more than guilty of not paying attention all the time, but Enoch hardly seems to care.When he does pay attention, he only has half a clue as to what Enoch is actually talking about half the time.Or: Enoch has a dirty mouth and the Beast has no idea what's going on.
Relationships: The Beast/Enoch (Over the Garden Wall)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	Sweet Nothings

Enoch likes to run his mouth. 

The Beast knows this about the Harvest Lord. He enjoys it, listening to Enoch ramble about everything, from weather to politics to town gossip. It's a pleasant drone, humming about without pause. The Beast is more than guilty of not paying attention all the time, but Enoch hardly seems to care.

When he does pay attention, he only has half a clue as to what Enoch is actually talking about half the time. 

Enoch likes to speak in riddles and misdirections and pleasantries, and it's so much **_babble_** the Beast can’t think straight to sort through it all. Enoch is all second meanings and veiled words, and the Beast has found its best to simply let the Harvest lord jabber on about whatever he likes.

But sometimes he says the  _ most _ peculiar things, with that infuriating tone of his that says he knows he’s talking around the subject and expects the Beast to know what he’s referring to. 

“Oh, they simply jump to any opportunity to be scandalized,” Enoch croons. “As if they do not get up to all sorts of, shall we say, music-making. And in the strangest places too, I chased Mr. Leftin and his husband out of my loft not two weeks ago,” 

The Beast hums, picking at a loose thread of the ribbon that has decided to migrate across the barn and found itself in his lap. 

“I was not aware Mr. Leftlin was musically inclined.” He says at last. 

“He’s certainly inclined to  _ something _ ,” Enoch says in that dual-tone. “Though he at least does not have nearly as filthy of a mouth as Mr. Owen, not a bit of shame in those bones,” Enoch chuckles to himself. “Just the other day, the man had the gall to ask me about who I dance with. As if he isn’t quite aware.”

“You don’t dance.” The Beast says, petting the ribbon. “Not in this skin, at least,” He glances suspiciously up at the maypole. 

“I most certainly do.” Enoch hums teasingly. “A little more… horizontal than upright, I’ll admit.”

Ah, Enoch is not referring to dancing. 

Something else, to be sure, but what. 

“Hm.” Is what he chooses to reply with. 

“Clara’s not much better,” Enoch mutters offhandedly. “But she at least has the decency not to be direct. She does delight in flustering me if she can, and she has the most interesting little turns of phrase for it.”

Clara is not the only one prone to using turns of phrase.

“She made a comment about it not two moons ago, oh, what was it? Something about bedsheets. I was in quite a fit when I heard such a thing come out of her mouth. I’m not sure I recall it.”

“Surely you have not taken to sleeping in a bed, Harvest Lord.” The Beast murmurs, and Enoch laughs. 

“She was referring to something a little less literal, Pumpkin,” 

The Beast cocks his head, waiting for Enoch to elaborate. 

Enoch dithers somewhat uncomfortably. 

“A roll in the hay, sugar,” Enoch says at last. 

“You don’t sleep in hay either.” The Beast says pointedly, and Enoch goes abruptly silent. 

“Cricket,” He says, and the Beast hums his acknowledgment. “Do you think I’m referring literally to hay,” 

The Beast narrows his eyes. 

“What else are you referring to, Lord of the Peaceful Dead?” Curiosity climbs into his voice. 

For a moment, Enoch radiates nothing but mortification, and then, quick as it comes, the smell is replaced by warm burning-sugar mirth.

“Oh, Honey,” Enoch’s voice drips with a teasing tone. “Getting lucky? The birds and the bees? Plowing the fields?” He asks as if those phrases are meant to mean anything to the Beast.

The Beast’s petulant silence only seems to make Enoch bolder. 

“Cleaning cobwebs? Sleeping together? An act of darkness?” Enoch sweeps forward with every phrase, humor painting his voice. “Churning butter? Throwing the dog a bone?” Throttling roosters?”

“Roosters?” The Beast dares to ask, and Enoch chortles. 

“Tying the lover’s knot?” Enoch breezes on past his question. “Painting a picket fence? Baking muffins? Non-lethal combat? Skinning a cat?” 

“Why would I want to skin a cat?” The Beast hisses, shoulders hiking defensively.

“Jumping bones? Knocking pelvises?” Matrimonial polka?” Playing with sticks? Basket making? Buttering bread?” 

“You’re making these up.” The Beast accuses.

“Making jam? Sewing? Fishing?” Enoch is now struggling to speak between bouts of laughter. “Honey, oh, goodness, Sugar, you-” He delves into yet another fit of giggles. 

The Beast prickles silently, glaring up at Enoch.

“Growing pumpkins? Dancing the horizontal tango? The four-legged fox-trot? Tilling? Threading the needle?” Enoch’s voice drips with mirth. “Plucking flowers? Making like rabbits? Harvesting corn- Oh, Hope Eater, my sweet innocent little sapling- surely you must know  _ some _ ? Sinning? Making candles? Shaking tarts? Oh, I have a  _ filthy _ mouth, don’t I? Dancing a jig? Snag? Walk a dirt road together?” 

Enoch’s giggles ring through the barn. 

“Growing a tree? Surely you  _ must _ have heard that one before! Digging a ditch? Saddling a horse? Heading south for winter? Serenading one another? Polishing boots?”

“Are you quite done?” The Beast snaps when Enoch pauses to dissolve into raucous laughter. 

“Oh, nearly, I have a few more- baking pies? Turning dirt? Digging graves? Saddling a horse!”

At last, Enoch seems to have exhausted himself, still grinning and giggling, his maypole skin draping over the Beast, cradling his bark.

The Beast’s claws snare impatiently in Enoch’s ribbons. 

“Would you care to enlighten me on what you find so funny, Harvest Lord?” He growls. 

“Of course, dear, of course,” Enoch coos. He leans in close, maypole bruising the Beast’s antlers. “You know where the pups of wolves come from, of course, darling?”

“Of course.” The Beast retorts sharply. “I’m not a fool.” 

“And that humans come from the same act?”

The Beast’s eyes narrow suspiciously. 

“Yes.” He drawls at last.

“And, then surely you know, that humans find pleasure in such an act, and they don’t always do it for the act of reproduction.” 

The Beast pauses. 

“Yes.” He voices at last, hesitant. 

“Well,” Enoch hums, ribbons flirting against the Beast’s antlers. “They’re not terribly fond of being blunt, and so they create little… phrases that mean the same thing.” 

Understanding, like an arrow, strikes the Beast. 

Suddenly his eyes blaze a furious, embarrassed purple. 

“Enoch!” He cries indignantly. 

“Oh, Turtle,” Enoch coos, sweetly. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” 

The Beast forgoes answering and instead growls, low and deep. 

“Let me make it up to you,” Enoch hums, ribbons lacing up around his shoulders. “I can butter your bread.” Teasing creeps into his voice.

“Enoch!” 

The Beast’s indignant yelp of surprise is only punctuated by Enoch’s own giggling and the slip of ribbons more than ready for a roll in the hay. 

**Author's Note:**

> Interested in the origin of this story? It was requested [here](https://doyouknowhowtowaltz.tumblr.com/) at my tumblr! Feel free to drop by and if you have a question or request go right ahead and drop it in my ask box! I am always delighted to have new story ideas.


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